The Assassin's Heart
by Hot elf
Summary: The Crows make Cat Cousland an offer she cannot refuse. But what will this mean for her relationship with her very own assassin?
1. From Antiva with Love

**The Assassin's Heart**

_A/N: I'm a bit obsessed with Bond movie themes right now. Somehow the lyrics seem to fit our favourite assassin to a T... At the same time, I'm trying to explore Zev's personality a little more, based on the things he says in the game.  
>This is set in Denerim and takes place between Chapters 10 and 11 of Cats on the Prowl (in case you're interested in chronology).<em>

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: From Antiva with Love<strong>

When the messenger boy came up to them and gave her Ignacio's letter, Cat's first reaction was complete and utter disbelief. The _Crows_ wanted to talk to her? She'd expected more attacks, certainly, another attempt on her life, or maybe someone contacting Zevran on the sly. But this?

Her curiosity piqued, she assembled a small group of her friends to go and meet Ignacio. Zevran, of course - she would need his help in evaluating the situation. Sten, because it never hurt to have a huge Qunari bodyguard at your side when you went to negotiate with assassins. And Wynne, in case things got nasty and they needed healing.

She needn't have worried, though. Ignacio proved to be perfectly civil. In fact, according to him, the Crows were interested in getting _her_ to work for _them_. Confused, she looked at Zevran for advice. Ignacio's eyes followed her gaze.

"Zevran, is it? You aren't my responsibility. Taliesin sends his love, though." The Crow grinned briefly. "In my eyes, you're already dead."

Cat felt a shiver travel down her spine at the implication, but she schooled her face to remain calm. Zevran acknowledged the other man's words with a curt nod; he'd expected nothing else. He knew well enough that Taliesin wouldn't give up, ever. He would hunt down Zevran and the Warden; that much was certain. A Crow contract could never be cancelled.

Cat was still unsure what to make of the assassin's offer. "I will need some time to consider," she stated.

Ignacio just shrugged. "Look, you see this chest behind me? If you should take it into your head to look inside, you will find a contract in there. Whether you take it, is entirely up to you. It is none of my business. If you prove helpful, however, I will make sure there will never be a contract on your head again. And we won't harm him, if he's important to you." He gestured toward Zevran, contempt clearly visible on his face.

Cat bit her lip, then she led her little party over to the tavern's taproom to discuss the proposal. When she threw Zevran a questioning look, he smiled.

"Ahhh, my sweet, I am all for it. If it works out, it will certainly make you and me a little safer from the Crows. And I assure you that you can rely on Ignacio's word in this."

She nodded, her face pensive. "Yes, but it might mean we have to kill innocent people. What then?"

He sighed. "My dear, but who is truly innocent? I doubt our designated marks will be. Besides, d_eath happens_, as we like to say. And when I get paid for it, death happens more often."

Wynne's face grew dark at his frivolous words, and she snorted disapprovingly as she turned to Zevran. "It's hardly that simple. You must know that murder is wrong, I assume. That is why you wished to leave your Crows, isn't it? A crisis of conscience."

Zevran's grin grew wider. "That's... one way of seeing it. But really, my darling Wynne, we all do our share of murdering around here, don't we?"

Cat sighed, mentally tuning out their bickering. It was obvious she couldn't count on Wynne to help her in this. She'd have to ask Morrigan. While the witch wasn't as good a healer as Wynne, she was a formidable ally in any fight, and it was refreshing to be with someone who took a more relaxed moral stance.

The moral choices turned out not to be too hard after all. Their first mark, Paedan, was hiding in a backroom of the Pearl. When they confronted him, it turned out that he'd been the brains behind a plan to lure Grey Warden loyalists into the brothel and kill them there. He attacked them before they even had a chance to make the first strike, but they dispatched him and his associates swiftly and definitively. When it was over, Cat looked down at the bodies and shrugged. They would have had to deal with him sooner or later anyway. The Crow reward was just an additional bonus.

Their next task, an attack on a bunch of Qunari mercenaries, was a lot harder to accomplish, but again the decision whether to kill them turned out to be surprisingly clear-cut. The Kadan-Fe attacked them on sight - small wonder perhaps, as the Qunari were carrying Gwaren shields and seemed to have been hired by Loghain. Morrigan's spells decided the battle soon enough.

On their way back to town, they made camp near a small stream, a tributary of the River Drakon. Zevran was glad for the chance to freshen up and disappeared immediately for a quick bath in the icy water. When he returned, Cat was deep in conversation with Leliana. The bard's face had carried a haunted look ever since they had met and confronted her former mentor, Marjolaine, a while ago. They hadn't killed the woman, but Leliana had seemed shaken by the other bard's accusations, for reasons Zevran couldn't grasp.

He could hear her voice now, anxious, her Orlesian accent more pronounced than ever, as she talked to Cat, an intense expression on her face.

"You see, Cat, what we're doing... what we've done. Hunted men down and killed them. Part of me _loves_ it. It invigorates me and this scares me. I... I feel myself slipping."

Zevran couldn't see Cat's face, but her voice sounded cool and collected. "I know the feeling, Leliana. You're not slipping. This is who you are. Don't punish yourself for doing something you enjoy."

Leliana's pretty eyes widened at this, but it was obvious Cat's words had made an impression. Zevran felt stunned. Of course he knew his Warden didn't share Leliana's pious scruples, but to hear her state it so bluntly...

He was in for another surprise when they returned to Denerim and, at Alistair's request, went to look for his long-lost sister. Cat was the only one to accompany him inside Goldanna's house. They weren't gone for long, though, and when they returned it was obvious the conversation hadn't gone well. The former Templar looked shattered, almost ready to cry, as he pulled Cat aside for a few words in private. Zevran did his best to listen, but all he heard were her last words, as she turned away from Alistair, her face pale and drawn.

"Everyone is out for themselves, Alistair. You should learn that."

Alistair seemed shocked, but fortunately, Leliana stepped up to the young man at this point, putting a gentle hand on his sleeve and whispering a few words in his ear. His expression softened, and the two of them went off together without another word to the Warden.

Zevran and Cat made their way to the Gnawed Noble to pick up their reward and a new killing contract from Ignacio, then settled at the bar for a snack and a glass of ale. He watched her face as they were eating, contemplating her changed demeanour.

"You have been acting very tough lately, carissima," he observed quietly. "I wonder whether it was unwise to accept Ignacio's offer."

She bristled immediately at this. "_You_ are telling me this, Zev? That's rich. Whatever became of 'the thrill of the hunt'?"

He flinched as he heard his own words from her lips. He hadn't realized she had been listening when he'd talked to Leliana a few days ago.

"Or how about 'when the prey is caught, it deserves a good death, a clean death'?" She snorted, and he realized belatedly that he'd got himself into trouble.

"Now, don't be mad at me, my sweet," he pleaded. "It's just... you're too young to think like that, no?"

"Too young? Too _young_? Oh come on, Zevran Arainai! You're a few years older than I am, at the most." He could see she was warming up now, unwilling to let it go. "Not to mention that now, suddenly I'm too young for this, yet all the while you expect me to put up with being your...". She was searching for words.

"My what?" He could hear his voice, sounding a lot sharper than he had intended. He had aimed for a casual, bantering tone, but failed miserably.

Cat closed her eyes, a pained expression on her face. "Oh, Zev! To you, it is all fun, isn't it? Everything's just a game. Our love-making, Taliesin's threats, the danger we're in... you don't care. Honestly, you're hardly in a position to accuse _me_ of being cynical."

He was more shocked than he cared to admit. Did she really believe that he was indifferent? Surely after all these months she had to know... He felt an overwhelming urge to grab her, to shake her, to make her see what was in his heart, but at the same time he was completely tongue-tied, even as she glared at him, expecting an answer from him.

She exhaled loudly, throwing him an exasperated glance. "You are... I need to get out of here," she growled, and headed for the door. Outside in the courtyard, she briefly stopped for breath. She saw the door open and for a moment felt a bright flash of hope, then tasted a sudden bitter tang of disappointment in her mouth as two drunken patrons left the inn. She realized she was waiting for him to follow her and cursed herself for her foolishness. _Not him, never._ Quickly she walked off into the dark.

When she passed the kennels, she heard Fluffy whine and decided to take him along. Better to be safe than sorry. Only seconds later, she saw a huge shadow emerge from the inn's wall, and her hands went to her dagger, but then she recognized Sten's unmistakable silhouette.

"It would be unwise to walk around alone at night, kadan." His voice, expressionless as always, was curiously soothing. She nodded curtly and set off, the two of them in tow.

Zevran's eyes followed her as she left the room, and he noticed her throw back a last quick glance at him. Should he go after her, ask her to come back? For a moment, he was undecided, his head spinning with uncertainty, an unfamiliar feeling of dread gripping his stomach. _No_. Zevran felt his pride rising and turned to the stairs to go up to their room instead.

Yet, as he closed the door behind him, he felt haunted by the memory of her face, the pain and the disappointment he had seen so clearly. He sighed and began removing his armour.


	2. All the Time in the World

**The Assassin's Heart**

**Chapter 2: All the Time in the World**

It was late at night when Cat finally came back to the inn. She had wandered all over Denerim for several hours, unable to come to terms with the white-hot fury boiling inside her belly whenever she thought of Zevran's words. _Too young indeed!_ She couldn't recall the last time she'd been so angry at _anyone_. She'd walked and walked, repeating the dialogue a million times in her head, raging and fuming, until at last she had been so exhausted she had stumbled over a cobblestone.

Sten had caught her easily, but had been completely clueless when she clung to him desperately, crying for long minutes against his broad chest. She almost smiled as she recalled his perplexed face, the ineffectual patting of his hands on her back. In the end, Fluffy had been the one to calm her, whining softly, pushing his nose against her hand, and she had apologized to Sten, turning around to head back to the inn.

When she opened the door to their room, the first thing she saw was Zevran, kneeling in front of the fireplace to stoke the fire. He had taken off his shirt and was only wearing breeches. For a second she had to catch her breath as she took in the sheer beauty of him. Long strands of golden hair fell loosely over his shoulders, free from their usual braiding. His bronzed skin was shimmering in the firelight, and the intricate dark red curves of the large tattoo on his back seemed to hug his long, lean muscles, to underscore the utter perfection of his body. He was moving with easy grace, as usual, as he turned his head to look at her, and she was relieved to see him smile tentatively at her.

She walked up to him and got down on her knees, embracing him and letting her forehead rest against his. "Zev..."

He sighed deeply, and she felt his strong arms encircling her, pulling her close. "You're back," was all he said.

"Zev, I'm so sorry," she whispered. "Please, forgive me."

He let his lips brush over her temples. "There's nothing to forgive, my sweet. You were right, I was being hypocritical. It is I who should be sorry."

Cat shook her head. "I didn't mean what I said. I... I guess I'm just exhausted. Alistair and Leliana, they came to me with their troubles, and I thought I could help them sort it all out, but now I've only made things worse." She curled up in his arms, hiding her face against his chest, breathing in his scent and revelling in his warmth. "Everyone always seems to think I have the solutions, and I keep failing them all."

He kissed her hair, then pulled her up, looking into her eyes. "No, you don't, my sweet, not at all. You are a marvellous leader. But now you are tired, and you have to stop thinking about the others for a while, yes? Look, we've got a room to ourselves, the night is young... Please let me make it alright for you."

He could feel her hand in his hair, impatiently pulling him down into a rough kiss, while her fingers went down to his pants, starting to undo the laces.

"Yes, Zev, please..." she groaned, but he gently pushed her hand away, interlacing his fingers with hers, before he lifted her hand to his lips to kiss every fingertip in turn.

"Patience, carissima. We have time now, just for love. Relax, and leave all those cares and troubles far behind you."

Very slowly, he began to unbuckle her armour, removing each part of it with practised moves, planting soft little kisses on every piece of skin he exposed. She closed her eyes and let him proceed, delivering herself completely to his touches, his tenderness, his care. When he'd finished removing the leather pieces, he took a moment to unbraid her hair, turning her around in his lap so he could brush the dark red strands. She leaned back into his sensual touch, relaxing, while at the same time she felt a familiar hunger growing inside her.

He finished brushing and parted her hair at the nape of her neck, kissing the soft white skin, while his hands began to slowly unlace her shirt. She moaned almost inaudibly and leaned back further into his embrace, feeling safe and warm and loved. How could she ever have questioned his feelings for her? If only he could say it once, though... She sighed. His heart was hidden under so many protective layers of playfulness, banter and flippancy, she wondered if he himself knew what secrets it held.

The soft linen of her shirt slid down over her shoulders and she felt him all along her back now, naked skin on naked skin, so warm, so sweet, so _right_. His hands remained unhurried as they began to stroke her skin with the lightest of touches, all over her body, sparing her breasts at first, then returning, his touch becoming firmer, more determined. She let her head loll back against his shoulder, and his mouth briefly caught hers in a feather-light kiss. His lips were soft and he tasted of honey and spices, and she couldn't resist burying her hand in his hair, pulling him closer for another kiss. He laughed quietly and acquiesced, catching her lower lip between his teeth for a moment before he deepened the kiss, exploring her mouth, claiming her with such passion it took her breath away.

Cat turned around in his arms and knelt before him as she helped him remove her pants, then his. When they were both naked, he pulled her down onto the rug and for a while, they just lay stretched out in front of the fire, enjoying the feel of their bodies touching, rubbing against each other like cats begging for a treat.

Then his hands resumed their exploration of her body, and his lips and tongue followed suit, painting complex patterns of pleasure on her skin. She leaned into his touch, arching up to meet his mouth, mutely begging for more, but he wouldn't be hurried, not this time.

Her hands began to reach for his body. She wanted to feel him so badly, and she felt him shudder under her touch as she traced his muscles, following the lines of the tattoos all over his glorious body, down to his groin and closer to his pulsing erection.

He groaned and grabbed her hands, moving them up to his shoulders again. "Not so fast, my beauty," he panted, his lips against hers, his hot breath mingling with hers.

"Please, Zev, I want..." she begged, and she heard him laugh softly.

"What do you want, my lovely?" he murmured against her cheek. "Tell me..."

Cat cursed, making him laugh again. "You know, you damned Antivan bastard... I want _you_, deep inside me, making love to me, please Zev..."

"Shhh, my sweet, not yet."

She couldn't believe it, but he still held out. "We have plenty of time, enough for all the precious things love has in store for you." She whimpered with impatience, but he wouldn't be dissuaded. With infuriating slowness, he parted her legs and let his fingers brush softly over her sex. She gasped as she felt a spark travel up her spine, and she pushed her hips up desperately, eager for more.

"So impatient..." he whispered. "Well, if you _really_ can't wait..." He sat up and pulled her onto his lap, facing him, her legs wrapped around his slender hips. When she felt his hard length against her, she moaned, her nails scratching over his back, her eyes dark with desire as she writhed against him.

"Zev, please, now..." Her voice was raspy with need as she took hold of him and tried to push herself down on his shaft, but his grip on her hips was firm. Inch by inch he lowered her, wanting her to savour every moment as he slowly filled her, his eyes fixed on her face, watching her expression avidly.

Cat thought she would die with pleasure. His soft, slow movements were the most exquisite torture she'd ever experienced. Her skin was tingling, her whole body taut with longing, and she felt the heat build deep inside her, growing until she was sure it would consume her whole being. She trembled all over, and she felt herself go tight around him, wanting to draw him inside her, deeper, closer, until he became a part of her.

For a moment he froze, holding her in a vise-like grip, struggling for control. "Just... a moment, carissima," he gasped as he went taut under her, holding on only by iron willpower. After a few seconds, she heard him breathe again, and he resumed his careful rhythm. She felt her body respond immediately, the fire inside her burning higher and higher, until she was afraid to let go, certain that her body couldn't take it, that she would faint in his arms.

Zevran sensed her hesitation and pushed her back on the floor so she was lying under him, her hair spread out around her face, her expression open and vulnerable. His breath caught in his throat as he looked down at her, then he carefully positioned himself between her legs again, found and held her gaze and began to move.

"Zevran, I can't..." she moaned, and he increased his tempo, not holding back any longer.

"Now, my sweet, now," he commanded, and he held her firmly, closely, watching her fall apart in his arms, her face flushed with pleasure, utterly helpless, completely undone. When he heard her cry out, he let go at last and followed her over the edge, consumed by the heat of her body against his. He lost himself for a moment and, in a blinding flash of clarity, knew this was where he belonged, this was where he needed to be, this was what he wanted. Nothing more, nothing less. Only her.

Afterwards he held her tight and felt her drift away to sleep, exhausted and happy. "We have all the time in the world, my sweet," he whispered against her hair. "All the time in the world, just for love."

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><p><em>Thank you to Zevgirl for beta reading and smoothing out all the little wrinkles - you're fabulous!<em>


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